


A Sense of Belonging. (♂ orc/ ♀ reader)

by Callendra



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, Warcraft - Free Form
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Human/Monster Romance, Physical Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Size Kink, Slow Burn, Teratophilia, fear kink, slight PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 19:11:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14837528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callendra/pseuds/Callendra
Summary: You are abducted by an orc and taken to his camp. There, you meet with another orc who seems to disapprove of your treatment by your current Master. You can't help but be intrigued by his consideration for you and the marks on his body, surely remnants of a violent past.





	A Sense of Belonging. (♂ orc/ ♀ reader)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello ^^ I do not play World of Warcraft. My knowledge is based on the movie Warcraft and some research on wikipedia. Regardless, i tried to be as true to the lore as i could. Though keep in mind it is some kind of free form.  
> Also, despite using the appearance of Durotan, this is not him. Enjoy!

                                                                 

 

A soft wind was blowing in your hair, some strands swirling in the air. It was a mild morning, one you had been waiting for after long days in the summer heat. It also meant the cold was slowly on its way again. You had to prepare for the rougher days to come. Hence your presence in the forest, looking for mushrooms or any edible plants to refill your storage. Some birds were chirping in the trees above you. Echoes of flowing water were coming from the river. The woods were calm, peaceful. Welcoming. Ever since you were old enough to wander into the forest alone, it had been your most cherished occupation.

 

You were strolling further and further away from your cottage, way past the outskirts of the village. It didn't frighten you, you knew these parts of the woods. Birds, foxes and rodents were the only wild creatures around here, even boars didn't come that close to the edge of the forest. And if they did, you hoped that your long green dress would work as a camouflage. Yet if something was to give you away, it would surely be your scent. So when you started to feel the earth vibrate, you couldn't help but frown. Soon, you could hear thumping. It sounded like a large animal was pounding the ground with powerful paws. Your heart began to race, your eyes fixed on the now rapidly moving leaves a dozen of feet in front of you. You jumped to your feet and sprinted in the other direction as terror set you into motion. You instinctively picked up the pace upon hearing the threat quickly getting closer and closer. Until pain radiated through your back and you found yourself crashing onto the dirt with a cry. Only then did you notice your chest was burning with every breath, but adrenaline was still coursing through your veins, numbing the pain.

A huff of warm breath hit the back of your head. You froze. You were suddenly very much aware of the presence of a beast right above you. You began to tremble, expecting every new second to be your last. New thundering steps reverberated on the trees nearby, flipping the rocks around you. More of these creatures were coming and they would tear you apart. That much you knew. A quiet sob escaped your lips as a tear of fear leaked down your temple.

Your eyes opened then as a deep chuckle rose from above you. You dared to turn your head then, only to face the huge maw of a black wolf. Forcing yourself to look away from the beast, you locked your gaze onto another one. Mounting the canine was a large and bulky green creature, tusks coming out of his mouth behind his lower lip. A multitude of pointy teeth decorated his furry clothes and his arms and pectorals, attached together in the form of bracelets and necklaces. He looked like a mix between a man and a beast. The satisfied grin he was addressing you made you shudder, screamed at you to run away from him. But the wolf wouldn't let you take more than a step. Its teeth frightened you too much for you to take the risk of being mangled to death. On either side of the green creature stood two equally impressive ones, mounting the same ferocious wolves. A dead bear was strapped behind one of the green monsters, attesting their impressive strength, if their muscles weren't enough of an hint.

The one hovering over you suddenly opened his mouth and spoke in a guttural language you couldn't understand. What you could understand though, and it made you shudder, was the triumphant and eager tone of his voice. The others remained silent, but moved their gazes from him to you. Suddenly, he leaned down and reached for your arm. You shrieked in panic, and attempted to struggle out of his grip, until you found yourself sitting on the big wolf, pressed back against the muscular green torso. You froze again then, feeling all too well the threat of his large hand around your throat. You shivered as he leaned into your neck and inhaled deeply, taking in your scent. His thick black beard was tickling your skin in a very unsettling way, rising chills. He growled a word in his language into your ear, his grip tightened slightly around your throat, before he gave an order and the wolf took off through the bushes and trees.

 

Your mind was blank while you bounced on the running wolf, kept in place by the firm hand around your throat. You were starting to realize that you would never see your village again. Waiting for the green beasts to decide your fate was the worst. As least, for now you were still too shocked for your brain to get lost into horrible thoughts. The trees were getting few and far between as you kept going onward; until you reached the fringe of the woods. The blazing sun forced your eyes to close. When you managed to squint them, they progressively grew wide. They had led you to a vast green valley, hidden between high hills. All around stood large tents ornate with gigantic tusks, surely belonging to some unfortunate colossal animals. Countless of bulky creatures, some male some female, turned to look at the new comers. Some of them smirked at you, others regarded you with clear contempt or with complete indifference.

The hand around your throat lifted you up and pushed you onto the ground. Your hip collided with the ground painfully, tearing a yelp from your lips. Common sense leaving you for a second, you glared at the beast who manhandled you. Your anger dissolved into fear though as your gaze was met by a defying and cruel smirk. You didn't need to understand his language to know that he was encouraging you to keep being cocky and give him more reasons to tame you. You lowered your gaze as helplessness crept over you. The green creature marched upon you then, the same expression displayed on his rough features. You attempted to crawl away out of pure instinct, but it didn't stop him from picking you up and prop you over his shoulder. You didn't struggle this time, assuming it would only hurt. You cast your panicked gaze on the other creatures, some still looking at you with smirks, others going back to their previous activities.

The blue sky disappeared to be replaced by thick fabric. The strong hand grabbed you around your waist and forced you down onto your knees, before it tightened around your throat again. Your eyes opened wider for a second, before you closed them. Even after he pulled away you remained motionless. It was only when you heard a clattering sound of metal that you looked up. You flinched as he fastened a heavy collar around your neck. You brought your hand to the metal restraint but as you feared, it stayed firmly locked in place. The monster brought more shackles, seizing your wrists to bind them together, a thick chain barely separating your hands. You started to pant again. He reached forward again and wrapped his large fingers around your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. Only then did you notice that he smelled of blood, metal and sweat. The strong mix was saturating your senses. It nearly made you tear up.

He spoke up again in this foreign language. His voice was slightly softer, yet it still held the same ominous intent underneath. He abruptly pushed you off, making you fall over onto your back. Your heart raced as you began to expect the worst. It took one step for him to be on you. You didn't dare move, simply closing your eyes tightly, as you tensed completely. He inhaled your scent deeply again before he chuckled. Clearly, he was enjoying the state of fright he had you in. His strong hands gripped at your dress and you shuddered. You yelped and grimaced as you heard a tearing sound and felt the fabric ripping all around your waist, exposing your stomach and back completely. His calloused palm felt the soft skin of your belly, making you pull it in automatically.

His face was inches from yours, almost buried into your neck. Simply smelling you. You heard fabric shredding again, this time around the skirt of what was left of your dress. Finally, he tore your sleeves off. Seemingly satisfied, he pulled away from you, staring down at your lying and petrified form. If you had been looking at him, you would have seen satisfaction and dominance in his gaze. You felt pressure around the metal collar and opened your eyes to see the green beast pulling on it. You stood up hastily and looking down upon yourself, you realized he had torn off chunks of your dress on both sides, leaving just enough fabric to cover your intimacy at the front and back mid-thigh. Fear still gripping at your guts, you followed him outside obediently.

 

You had no idea for how long you had been sitting on the beast's lap. The sun wasn't yet at its zenith, but looking up at the sky, you could tell it was getting there. Various sounds were echoing all around you: the lively discussion between the green creatures around the fire, clinking of metal and heavy footsteps, cutting of wood and flesh and the distant rumble of conversations coming from all around the camp. Different smells reached your nose: fresh animal blood, cooked meat, sweat and mud. You looked around you again at the creatures bustling about. A male with long black hair and a broken tusk was giving the finishing touches to a giant axe in a makeshift forge. Another male was skinning the bear you had seen earlier on the hunter's wolf. Others were renovating a tent with fresh fabric. Further away, females were sparring in front of enthusiastic and fascinated offspring. There must have been at least one hundred of them in this valley.

You hadn't noticed it at first, but less than half of them had a tanned skin, much more human-like. You had watched them for a while, and it struck you how similar to humans they actually were. Despite their animalistic appearances, nothing was especially unfamiliar to you. They cooked their meat, they forged, their skins wore markings representing won battles, they took care of their progenies and taught them their ways. Actually, the only ominous elements you found were the omnipresence of skulls – mostly of animals, but you had recognized at least a human one – and the fact you were in shackles, sitting on top of one of those creatures.

A sharp pain throbbed at the back of your head and you hissed as you were forced to look upward. Your gaze met with the amber eyes of your captor. For a few seconds nothing happened, except for the nervousness spreading into the pit of your stomach. You vaguely noticed the other three creatures had gone silent. His large hand freed your hair, only to cover your stomach, holding you firmly to him and you gasped. He kept his intense gaze on you while he slid his hand down to your thigh. You felt your breathing grow heavy. He smirked slightly and inhaled your scent deeply before he looked back up at the others. You remained frozen for a few seconds, especially as you felt his hand migrate back to your stomach. Although you remained rather tensed against the broad chest behind you, you dared looking around again. You couldn't quite fathom his behaviour with you. His gestures were clearly of an intimate nature, yet he hadn't taken advantage of you outside of some inappropriate stroking. That was more than unnerving. For how long would it go on like this?

 

Several days passed by. Most of the time you were dragged around camp by your Master. Again, besides his hand lingering on your stomach or around your throat he hadn't touched you. Sometimes he pointed towards a mug or a piece of meat while barking at you in his language. Your body was already bearing the marks of his brutish manners. Especially around his kin, he pushed you around, yanked at your head or grabbed a part of you. You were starting to understand why he kept you around. At least you thought so.

You were not the only captive in this camp. You hadn't noticed it at first, but some others owned a human slave as well. It had actually surprised you how rare they were. You would have expected it to be a cultural trait. Decidedly, they were even more alike to humans than you would have alleged. You had started to study them. It seemed that your Master was well respected among them. He wore more teeth and marking ornaments than a lot of others. Surely, it had to do with his influence around the camp. You had even caught a glimpse of magic yielding one, much to your astonishment. He seemed to be one the most revered ones as well, owning the biggest and richest tents in the camp. Most of those creatures didn't seem to care about you or the other slaves. Instead they were going on with their daily routines with indifference.

One of them was standing out. You had first laid your eyes on him when he had been back from hunting with a few others, bringing back a dead boar. It hadn't been his brown skin or his long black hair tied in dreadlocks that you had noticed first. It had been the look in his yellowish eyes. You had just been brutally pushed by your Master when your gaze had locked with his. You had been taken aback to see concern for a few seconds, before he had gone his way. Or perhaps had you been so keen on finding any sign of consideration that you had misread his expression.

Either way, it had somewhat haunted you. Of course, you weren't actively seeking his attention, you feared too much your Master's retribution. Yet, every time you found him in your line of sight, you couldn't help but observe him. As discreetly as you could to not wake suspicion. You detailed his appearance, his demeanour intermittently. Alike your Master he wore necklaces and bracelets of teeth, even his tusks wore rings and piercings. He seemed to be less aggressive and rough than your Master, more collected. The more you watched him – talking to others, carving animal teeth to add to his collection, tanning fresh skin – the more human he appeared to you. In the most gratifying way. He intrigued you. You wanted to know why he acted different than the others towards you. Why his strong back was adorned with deep long and thin scars.

Sometimes, when you had thought to be stealthy enough, he had turned his gaze towards you. He had held your stare then, offering nothing more than an unreadable yet soft expression. It made you wonder if he was returning your attention simply because he felt your eyes on him, or because he was interested in you as well. The answer seemed irrelevant. You belonged to another anyway. As if to strengthen this fact, and surely it was his objective, your Master had grabbed a tight hold of you once. He must have caught you and his rival staring at each other, because he had stood behind you with his hand firmly around your throat. Facing his peer, he had leaned down to bury his face into your neck, taking in your scent as he usually did. Still gazing at the brown-skinned man, your expression had morphed into one of fear. He had simply watched for a few more seconds before he had turned away from you and your Master. The message had been clear, from both of them.

 

Despite this incident, you kept looking at him. To your dismay, he was no longer returning the favour so often. Sometimes you still caught his gaze on you, but the moment he noticed, his attention was gone. Your Master had become even more possessive of you than before. His hand hardly left your stomach, or the end of your metal leash. When the others spoke to him, a word was coming back more often than others. 'Ulgosh'. You didn't know for sure, but you thought it had to be his name. Though you wouldn't have dared say it for fear of retaliation from your Master. You didn't want to increase the fear you already naturally felt towards him.

Often, your thoughts drifted back to your village. You missed Edgar, the baker, who had always given you an extra bread when the harvest of your field had been fruitful. You missed Alienor, the tanner's daughter, who had been your closest friend since childhood. You missed Tomer, the butcher, who you didn't know quite well, but always smiled friendly at you. You missed them, but you were scared for them. Scared to see them turned into slaves as well.

More than once you had considered talking to the other humans in this camp. But you had thought better of it. For your safety and theirs. You felt lonely. Even more so each time you thought about your precarious situation. When would Ulgosh grow bored of you? What would happen to you then? It was in those moments of fear and uncertainty that your gaze searched the brown-skinned man.

 

One night as you lied on the hard ground of his hut, you quietly stepped out to relieve yourself. The camp was quiet and dark. Except for a few of the creatures standing guard or warming up around fires, they were all sleeping in their tents. You silently stepped away from the hut and closer to the forest. There, you found a little bush to hide behind. Done, you looked up at the dark and thick woods ahead of you. You could run away. You could run straight forward and you would eventually find your cottage. Or, in this obscurity, you would simply be eaten by some predator. And if you weren't, how long until the rage of the beasts would bring them to you, and to your village? What if, as a punishment, they burned the houses and killed the villagers, forcing you to watch? You shuddered. Perhaps those dreadful thoughts were only born from your wild imagination, but you knew of their brutal ways.

You walked away from the forest and back towards the tent. Looking around, your attention was caught by the nearest fire. One of the creatures was sitting on a trunk, surely enjoying the warmth of the flames and the quietness of the night. You glanced up at his face, your gaze locking into yellowish eyes looking back at you. You felt your heartbeat speed up a little. After a second of hesitation, you walked towards the fire. You knelt in front of it across from the man, lifting your hands to warm up your palms. Your eyes met his again. With the flames as only source of light, it conferred his irises a vibrant amber shade. Perhaps your mind was making up their soft and sympathetic gleam out of need. His large mouth opened as if he was about to speak, but he must have reconsidered, because he stayed quiet. Only the crackling of the embers broke the silence between the two of you. He glanced away from you, and you didn't have to look over your shoulder to know he was peeking at Ulgosh's tent. His gaze seemed to grow cautious before he frowned, gazing at you one last time before he stood up and walked away. You watched his large back disappear into the darkness with pursed lips. You plunged your gaze on the mesmerizing flames for a short moment, before you stood up as well and retired to the hut.

The next day started off well. Or rather, like usual. Ulgosh dragged you around, made you sit on his lap, ordered you to fetch this or that, shoved you a little. Nothing you hadn't gotten somewhat used to or couldn't handle. Until, by the end of the afternoon, another green man came to him. The glare your Master fixed on you made you shudder like never before. He gripped your throat and lifted you off the ground, levelling your face with his. His hold was so tight you could barely breathe, a terrifying pressure building in your skull, your lips growing numb. He growled something at you menacingly, before he tossed you onto the ground. Pain shot through your temple as you hit a little rock. Dizziness took over you for a short moment.

You were given no time to recover as you were suddenly forced onto your feet. Crying out, you tensed completely. A warm liquid was leaking down your temple, your head throbbing. Looking up, you spotted the brown-skinned man about five feet in front of you. He was staring back at you and your Master with a grim look, perhaps with a hint of concern and anger. Ulgosh's hand was tightly wrapped around your throat, keeping you in place against his chest. You shuddered violently as you felt his tongue lap up the side of your face, leaving a cool wet trail in place of the warm liquid. Something changed in the brown-skinned man's eyes. The glimpse of a resolute decision. You didn't dare look at him again for the rest of the day after that. That night, Ulgosh bound your chains to a metal bar, bending it in a demonstration of strength, to make sure you would no longer stray from the hut at night.

 

The next day, soon after midday, you noticed everyone begin to gather around the shaman. He was speaking in a loud solemn voice, his cloak swirling a little around his massive stature. Next to him stood the brown-skinned man, staring directly into your Master's eyes. Ulgosh stood up, snarling both with anger and excitement as he glared back at him. Around you, the crowd was starting to let out enthusiastic cries while brandishing tools, fists and weapons. Confusion laced around your guts as you were forced to follow your Master towards the large circle of creatures that was starting to form further away from the huts.

He brought you down onto your knees, but you barely paid any attention to it. Your eyes were fixed on the banners carried by the brown-skinned man and others like him. Your Master gripped your jaw tightly to force your gaze on him. He smirked at you before he turned your face back towards the large empty circle. He marched forward then, flexing his muscles as he growled at his opponent. You were beginning to understand what was about to happen. He turned towards the crowd and lifted his fist into the air, letting out what you assumed were battle cries. Some of the creatures watching responded with equally enthusiastic yells. On the other side of the circle, the brown-skinned man glanced at your kneeling form before he focused his gaze back on Ulgosh.

The shaman spoke up again. Almost instantly the crowd fell quiet to listen reverently. The moment he stopped talking, cheers and new battle cries echoed all around. The next second, the two giants were rushing towards each other, teeth bared in a menacing way. You watched with slightly wide eyes as they threw violent kicks and punches at each other. Unable to dodge the rapidly coming fist, the brown-skinned man fell down heavily. You could feel the ground vibrating under your knees. Quickly, he got onto his feet. The other colossus was already throwing himself at him. Using his own strength against him, he tackled him into the dirt. His enormous fist impacted Ulgosh's face. A pained and furious groan erupted from his bleeding mouth. Your heart was racing.

Your Master's hand gripped his assailant's fist before he could strike again. Their arms began to shake as they both used all their strength to overpower the other. Around you, the crowd kept on cheering, encouraging with guttural cries their designated champion. Suddenly, Ulgosh grabbed one of the pointy teeth hanging around his neck. The brown-skinned giant released a loud growl of pain and suddenly got of him. As he stood up, you gasped upon seeing the hole on his right pectoral, oozing with a thick dark red liquid. You suddenly felt the urge to cheer him on. But you didn't, knowing all too well that if he lost the fight, this could have terrible consequences. So you kept quiet, watching warily.

Ulgosh threw himself again on his wounded opponent, satisfaction contorting his face. This time, the other was ready. He leaned down upon impact, flexing the muscles of his arms and chest. He quickly straightened and tossed the green beast over his shoulder. He instantly straddled him and sent punches after punches into his face. He only stopped when a puddle of dark blood and broken bones was all that was left of his head. Silence fell over the crowd for a second, before they erupted into cries of eagerness. Even the ones who were previously loyal to the defeated, regarded him with respect.

You were motionless, your breathing unsteady. Your Master was dead. You weren't exactly sure what it meant, but at the moment you felt relieved. He would no longer mistreat you. You looked up at the victor. His death would have affected you more than you wished to admit. The shaman spoke again solemnly. Once he was done, the victor nodded grimly. He was a little breathless, his skin covered with sweat and blood. He crouched over the corpse and tore a tusk out of the remnants of his mouth, eliciting new cheers from the crowd. Only then did you realize, some of the teeth he adorned must have belonged to previous opponents. His gaze turned to you then as the audience began to scatter. With a gesture of his hand he beckoned you to him. You didn't even hesitate and rose to your feet to follow him towards a tent you assumed belonged to him.

You stood there silently while you watched him. It seemed he was ignoring you for now, grabbing a clean cloth to soak up his fresh wound. You couldn't help but feel excited. Belonging to him would be far less scary, you could already tell. He washed his injury carefully before he did the same with Ulgosh's tusk. Then, easily carving a hole at its base, he added it to his necklace. Only then did he turn towards you. You sucked in a breath quietly.

“What is your name, human girl?” he asked in his usual composed voice, although it was strained after the tiring fight. Your eyes and mouth opened wider with utter surprise.

“You... speak the common tongue?” As he only responded with a nod, you answered his question.

“I am Mevoten. Don't fret, no more harm will come to you.” At these words he sat down on a large chair next to his bed. He beckoned you forward with another gesture and you immediately obliged.

Without a word he grabbed your shackles and easily broke the chain, making you flinch slightly. Then, with more effort, he bent the metal of your collar and bracelets, freeing you completely. You remained motionless in front of him while he let the now useless restraints fall onto the ground. He looked tired, but not on the verge of passing out. Despite the pain and fatigue, his face displayed a contented and peaceful expression. He looked at you again.

“You must have questions.” he simply said. Indeed, you had questions.

“What did it mean... that fight?” You had some idea, but it was simpler to ask him.

“It was Mak'gora. We orcs fight each other to the death for the command of a clan. Winning with honour is a proof of worth. I did it to earn more respect and loyalty from my kin.” he paused then, his gaze growing more intense. “It also allows me to inherit everything that belonged to him.”

You sucked in another breath at his confession. You had wondered at first if he had battled against the other orc for your ownership. Clearly, it was not the main reason. But it aroused another question: why did your fate matter to him? You longed to know the answer, and yet you weren't sure if you should ask him. You would have never dared ask Ulgosh. But Mevoten... you felt that no harm could come from it.

“Why did you want to inherit what he owned?” you paraphrased him tentatively.

Mevoten gazed at you intently then, visibly studying you and pondering whether or not he should answer this question. His eyes shifted to the side then, and from the look on his face you guessed he was lost in unpleasant memories. You didn't press him but simply waited. Finally, his yellowish gaze met yours again.

“The way he treated you made him unworthy of his clan, and of you.” he confessed with a hint of irritation in his voice. Clearly, it was not aimed at you.

You weren't sure you understood why your situation had annoyed him that much. After all, you weren't the only slave in this camp. Yet, come to think of it, you had never seen the few orcs owning slaves mistreat them like Ulgosh did. They were servants, yes, and they often had to bear their Masters rough manners, but you had never witnessed real violence. Except on you. Staring back at Mevoten, you felt the desire to take him in your arms. But you refrained yourself. Both because he was injured, and because you had learned to be cautious around those creatures.

“Thank you.” you simply said, voice soft and grateful. He didn't answer, simply nodding.

“You might be wondering why I am not setting you free, if I care so much about your well-being.” That took you aback and after a few seconds you nodded your head slowly. “I would look weak. I can't take this liberty right after taking the lead of his clan. But rest assured, ___, that I will treat you well.” he stated, his yellowish eyes resolutely fixed on you.

It was a selfish reason. But you couldn't hold it against him, for he had just rescued you from your abuser. And, at least for the time being, a part of you wished to stay with him. Of course, you still missed the villagers and your quiet little cottage, but you were nourished, bathed and if he was true to his words, would be protected and cared for. You had to admit, despite your fear, their culture had intrigued you. And since you finally could communicate with one, who also appeared to be the gentlest among them, you felt even more curious.

 

During the following days, you had to get used to the change in your situation. For weeks you had been constantly led around and touched by Ulgosh. Your newly rediscovered personal space was welcome, but also unsettling. At first you had remained cautious of your behaviour around Mevoten and the other orcs, even though none of them showed hostility. They were following their new chieftain steps and left you alone. You no longer slept on the ground like Ulgosh had forced you to, but on soft furs laid on the ground for you. Fear was progressively leaving your body and mind. It felt incredibly liberating.

After a few days, you realized that your eyes and thoughts sometimes lingered on your new Master's hands, chest or face. To the point that you were beginning to doubt you would dislike sitting on his lap. You had seen how dangerous and aggressive he could be. Yet, you didn't fear he would direct it on you. The way he made sure not to touch you inappropriately reinforced that feeling. Moreover, you were more and more surprising yourself waiting for your daily conversations. Of course you understood that he couldn't spend his whole day with you, since he had a larger clan to lead. As well as animals to hunt and weapons to look after. And actually you were thankful of it. That way there was no risk of you being overwhelmed by too much interaction too quickly.

 

“Aknos has been our shaman for a long time now.” Mevoten replied after you asked about the old orc. “Far long before I joined them.” he added, his voice and gaze lowering a little. You perked up at that. Just like every time he revealed a bit of his past, you wanted to ask more. But you didn't.

You and Mevoten were sitting on chairs inside his tent. The sun had set a few hours ago, and the only lights came from the candles dispersed all around. You had been wondering about their shaman, very intrigued by his affinity with magic.

“Only a few orcs are strong and worthy enough to become shamans. Many are too weak to be chosen by the spirits and lose their mind. Long ago I considered becoming one.”

You watched him silently as he seemed to be lost in thoughts for a short moment. The dim light of the candles were painting his skin a soft orange. You could hear the distant yet loud voice of other orcs in the camp. The fact that Mevoten talked the common tongue truly was a blessing. He brought his attention back on you and simply stared at each other for a short moment.

“I had never seen anyone use magic before.” you commented thoughtfully.

“Our shamans master the elements, while your human wizards practice other types. I witnessed it.”

Once more, your expression brightened with curiosity. He must have noticed it, because a little smile tugged at his lips and he let out a quiet huff. But he didn't address it.

“Have you stayed in your village your whole life?” he asked, bringing a mug to his mouth.

You nodded, looking to the side. “Yes. Sometimes I travelled with the merchants to other villages nearby for the great fair. But most of my life I have spent in this little village and the woods nearby.” you replied, smiling a little fondly.

“Some of us live in established cities, much like humans. My clan and I prefer temporary settlements.” he retorted, and once again, it seemed a thought was veiling his eyes.

Your thoughts drifted towards what his words implied and you frowned. Eventually the orcs would leave. And so would you. You would never see Alienor again. A sudden feeling of emptiness dug a hole into your chest and you felt emotion resurface. You tried to keep control over yourself, but you couldn't stop tears from welling up in your eyes. Although you weren't looking at him directly, you could still see Mevoten's grim gaze on you. Neither of you moved for a short moment. Until you saw him extent a massive hand towards you. You glanced up, a tear falling down your cheek. Silent, he was offering you his palm. You didn't move for a second before you stood up and crossed the distance between you. You pressed your chest and face against his large torso. Your arms wrapped around his body, your fingers clutching at the soft fur at his waist. You felt his arms slowly close around your smaller frame. He stayed quiet, simply sharing his heat with you. You silently cried against him, breathing in the scent of his skin. A mix of sweat, cooked meat and embers. Mixed with his embrace it was calming. You stayed like this for a while, welcoming the peaceful feeling.

 

“What do they tell, your markings?” you asked pensively, your fingertips retracing the white symbols on the skin of his arm. You felt his hairs rise on your trail.

You were both sitting on the fur of his bed, conversing like you did every night. His gaze was lowered onto your hand, lips slightly parted. You locked eyes with him then, not yet retracting your hand as you waited for his answer. He kept looking at you with a soft gleam for a few seconds, before he glanced back down at his arm.

“Some years ago humans attacked our camp in droves during the night. They burned tents and killed many of us. I received these markings for slaughtering dozens of them.” he explained, his voice slightly quieter than usual.

You stayed quiet at first and just continued to caress his painted skin. He didn't seem to gain any glory from this. He wasn't apologetic either. At least he didn't come off as such. One thing was for sure, he must have earned a lot of respect from his kin. You didn't have any difficulty picturing him brandishing his axe and tearing soldiers apart.

“It must have brought you great honour among your clan.” you mused.

“It did.” he simply agreed.

You both fell silent for a second before he took your hand. It looked so small in his large palm. His skin was rough but pleasantly warm. You let your fingertips brush against it, smiling softly as his muscles jerked slightly, visibly ticklish. You slowly slid your hand up his arm, glad he didn't stop you. You only stopped on his right pectoral. The wound from his fight had healed nicely, but it had left a deep and rough scar. White markings were spiralling around it, as if born from it.

The ritual was burned in your memory. The day his injured had healed completely, the whole camp had gathered around the shaman at dusk. Torches had been stuck in a large circle. Mevoten had left you with the other slaves, at a spot where you would have a clear view to witness the ceremony. Then he had entered the circle. He had stood in front of the shaman. For once the crowd had been quiet, aside from the drums that a few of them had been playing. His hand covered in white paint, the shaman had begun to draw on Mevoten's chest. Then, the new chieftain had turned around to reveal the markings. Glowing a vibrant white, the substance had seemed to penetrate Mevoten's skin. He had groaned deeply and after a few more words from the shaman, the crowd had erupted in cheers. Afterwards, he had translated the shaman's words for you, that he had earned the spirits' benediction to lead his clan.

“This one was your most honourable fight, wasn't it?” you inquired, your eyes still fixed on the white markings around his scar.

He only responded with a nod. A warm sensation on your waist brought you back from your reminiscence. You realized his hand was now resting on your skin. You looked up, only to find his own gaze locked in yours. There was a glimmer of longing in his eyes, one that rose warmth to you cheeks. You were finding joy in this kind of closeness more and more.

 

Mevoten was cleaning his chest with a wet cloth inside the tent. You were sitting on a large chair, drinking from a mug. Your eyes were detailing the muscles of his back, the thick black locks of hair. The long lines carved into his skin. No orcish weapon could have left such marks. Slowly you put the mug down and you stood up. You stepped towards the gentle giant and extended your hand once you reached his side.

“May I?” you asked.

First he glanced down at your hand confusedly. But then after a few seconds he came to a decision and offered the cloth to you. Taking a few steps back, you began to rub the fabric over his back. You let your gaze travel over his scarred skin. It took you about a minute to wash his back. Lowering the cloth, you lifted your other hand to run your palm across a few scars. You felt him shiver under your touch.

“I was born in a small orcish village.” he started, successfully bringing your attention to the back of his head. “I was taught our ways like the children are in this camp. I learned to fight and to lead. I even cultivated the ambition to become a shaman. Until our village was ravaged by slavers.” Your eyes fell down on his back again. “Alike other children I was taken to human cities. They gave us tasks humans couldn't do, like carrying heavy rocks. I was taught to obey, but I was a slow learner.” His last words were followed by a bitter laugh.

“So this is how you learned the common tongue.” you mused thoughtfully.

“Only the shaman, a few other orcs and I speak your language in this camp.” he paused, turning around to face you.

You let your hand slide along his waist to stop on his muscular stomach. You frowned then, something didn't make sense to you.

“Shouldn't you hate humans for what they did to you?” you asked softly. His palm found yours on his stomach, covering your small, warm hand completely.

“At first I did. I desired nothing more but to tear them all apart.” His gaze grew hard, but you didn't back away. His expression softened again. “But I would still be their slave if not for a human.” He paused, visibly reliving his memories. “A young man took pity and released a few of us from our cage. The slavers found us before we could go far enough. They killed half of us and captured the other half. Except for me. I escaped at the cost of this man's life. I never repaid my debt.” He took your hand in his.

Your watering eyes searched his face. His desire to free you had just gained a whole new meaning. You felt the urge to embrace him. And this time you did. Taking a step closer you wrapped your arms around his large frame. His arms circled your smaller body and you felt his hands cover your entire back as he held you to him. Your face was buried into the patch of hair on his sternum, his scent filling your nose. You barely realized it, but your fingers were squeezing him with need.

His hands lowered to your thighs and he lifted you off the floor. You gasped softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. You stared back into his intense yellow eyes. Fondness and desire was burning in them under the candlelight. You felt a tingling sensation invade your belly. You leaned forward slowly, your breathing growing heavier the closer you were to his face. He closed the remaining distance with a soft groan.

His lips were surprisingly soft. Far more than you would have guessed. They pressed against yours with a mix of urgency and delicacy. As if he feared he would hurt you. But all you were focusing on was the softness of his mouth and your chest flush against his own. Your fingers were tangled in his black dreadlocks, almost pulling to keep him close to you. The way his lips caressed yours longingly and his hands firmly held you against him, it was igniting arousal in your belly.

You suddenly felt movement, and you soon realized Mevoten had walked you to his bed when your back lied on the soft fur. His imposing frame hovered over you, blocking your view entirely. You had grown fond of the sight of him. And judging the look he was casting on you at that moment, you knew he returned the feeling. His mouth was on yours again. You felt his warm tongue lick at your lips. You parted them, your own meeting it in a wanton caress. He broke the kiss to lower his face to your bosom. There, he grabbed the green fabric covering your breasts and effortlessly tore it in half.

You gasped loudly, your body tensing at the bad recollection. But Mevoten's gesture had been infinitely more cautious and you knew his intentions were benevolent. Yet it seemed he had noticed your distress, for he had stopped moving and he was silently waiting for your approval. It took a short moment for your body to relax completely. During which you appreciated Mevoten's considerate patience beyond measure.

You nodded softly then, and watched as he lowered his face onto your awaiting breasts. You let out a moan when his lips closed around your nipple, a wave of arousal coursing through your belly at the welcomed pleasure. Your hands were clawing at his hair and shoulder with eagerness. You could feel your core begin to ache. His mouth continued its way down your body. This time, he simply lifting the piece of fabric covering your womanhood. The growl he let out when he breathed in the scent of your arousal made you shiver with excitement.

Your back arched off the bed as pleasure shot through your clitoris. His warm and wet tongue lapped at your folds firmly, denoting his eagerness. You looked down at him to see his lustful eyes fixed on your face. You were offering him an expression of wanton abandon, panting slightly. This seemed to trigger something in him, as he began to work twice as hard to pleasure you. You had pleasured yourself before in moments of self-exploration, but never before had you felt such strong arousal and sensations.

Mevoten sat back on his knees. He looked so impressive towering over you like this, his mouth glistening with your arousal. His gaze fixed on you as he started to unfasten his stomach plate. You sucked in a breath as his impressive shaft was revealed to you. Longer and thicker than any human's sex could ever be. It scared you a little. He seemed to perceive your apprehension because he hovered over you again, kissing your fear away.

“I know your human body is more fragile than one of an orc. I will not hurt you, ____.”

You smiled, nodding at his reassuring words. You felt his hand slide down your side then. Your legs opened wider the moment his fingers found your mound. You gasped, your hips bucking into his hand as he rubbed your pearl again. A moan escaped your lips as you felt his finger penetrate your wet entrance. Never before had you felt so full, leaving you both worried and eager for more. His other hand had a tight hold of your hair, pinning your head to the fur while he kept his lustful gaze on your face. His chest was pressed against your breasts, rubbing slightly with his breathing. When he started to thrust his finger, you breathed in sharply.

The feeling of discomfort soon faded as you adjusted around his warm finger. You were breathing heavily against his face. Judging the intense look in his eyes he was enjoying the sight of you beneath him. As he sped up the thrust of his finger he leaned into your neck. He sucked and bit your skin, adding more fervour to his gestures.

Until he couldn't take the waiting any longer. He straightened again and collected some of your juices to lubricate his shaft. You shifted your weight on your elbows, watching a little warily. Yet your core was clenching with the need for more. He grabbed your thighs then and brought you closer to him with some brusqueness. Lining up with your entrance he went back on top of you. He gripped a fistful of your hair again, his other hand on your waist. Slowly, he pushed into you. You clawed at his back, whining softly. Forcing himself to hold back, he remained cautious of your reactions. Had you been a female orc, he would have been pounding you already. He knew better.

His lips captured yours again once he reached your limits. The kiss was rougher than before, his teeth nibbling at your lower lip, his tongue caressing yours more firmly. It was sending jolts of arousal through your lower-belly and made you clench around him. Which in turn, only fed his desire. He remained motionless for a moment, and you were grateful he did. You gasped into his mouth when you felt his hips move against yours. He kept his thrusts slow at first, reaching deeply inside you. His groans were vibrating softly against your lips. The sound alone made you press more against him, your fingers tightening around his hair.

Soon, his thrusts grew faster and rougher. Pleasure was spreading through your core, as his thick shaft kept rubbing against your sensitive spots. Your breathing was deep and unsteady as you panted and moaned. A strong musk had filled the heated tent. It only fuelled your desire. A wet sound of skin against skin echoed with each thrust, always followed with moans and groans. Mevoten was panting above you, his fevered gaze locked into yours, his fingers still tangled in your hair. Your bodies, sweaty from your lovemaking, kept rubbing against each other.

Pleasure was rising in your core as his thrusts remained unfaltering. Your moans were growing louder, blissful shivers coursing through your nerves. You could recognize the signs of an oncoming orgasm, yet the intensity of it amazed you. Never before had your fingers brought you such sensations. It was disarming, and you felt about ready to surrender. You would gladly admit defeat for new drops of this ecstasy. A shaky moan escaped your lips when Mevoten's hard and fast thrusts brought you to your peak, your legs trembling with little spasms. He slowed down slightly, burying his face into your neck and pressing you a little closer to his body. After that, it was nothing but a blur of intense sensations, moans and groans until your core was filled with his warm cum. He rolled you both over then, laying you down on his heaving hot chest. You closed your eyes, basking in the blissful fatigue that came over you.

 

“Despite the spirits' blessing our resources are running low.” Mevoten said as you lied on his chest after your last mating. “The newborns will need more soon. We have to find a new place to establish our camp.”

You noticed his voice was a little guarded. You didn't have to inquire to understand why. The thought was also on your mind: you would have to leave the village behind. It had been months now since you had disappeared, and even if they found you, surely they thought better than to attack a camp of a hundred orcs.

“I made you stay once, I won't make you follow us if you don't wish to.” he finished, his previous tone even more audible.

You looked up into his eyes then. His expression was calm, searching, expectant as he waited for your decision. You knew he wanted you to follow him. That much was obvious. He had grown very fond of you. If the lovemaking wasn't, the new orcish clothes and the necklaces he had offered you were enough proof. You would never be considered as one of them. Perhaps would they grant this honour to a warrior in specific situations, but not to a simple slave who had won a chieftain's favours. And what if he died in Mak'gora or in any other battle? You would be left with nothing, or handed over to another orc. You could leave this horde and go back to your cottage with fond memories. You would see Alienor again, cultivate your field, buy your bread. You would never have to see Mevoten die.

A soft smile curled your lips as you caressed the markings on his chest. You leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. You didn't want to think about it at this moment, you wanted to cherish the peaceful feeling that followed sex. Patient and eager to touch you, Mevoten returned your kiss with matching fondness. You focused on the firmness of his chest, the warmth of his hands on your back, the softness of his lips. Decisions were for another moment, the present was a time of insouciance.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So this is it. I leave the ending open for you to choose if you would rather follow Mevoten and the horde, or if you would rather go back to your previous life. Hope you liked it!


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